Kittens, Cat Baskets and Mischevious DemiGods
by huggablelove
Summary: When you're a billionaire in a thing with a certain megalomaniacal god, your life was never going to be normal. But some nights just border on insane...


**A/N**

**So, some of you may have read my other story, Dying Flame. Just a quick update, I am honestly stuck on where to go. I have the plot and everything in my head, and the kin words are wonderful, so I can't thank you enough, but, well, yeah. So I shall upload the next chapter, of which was pre-written soon, and decide from there.**

**Onto this one, warning of sexual reference, swearing, slash (FrostIron), and very brief mentions of MPreg (blame Thor, he's tryin to convince Loki to be a mommy again).**

Granted, that being a crime-fighting, earth-protecting billionaire in an iron suit was never going to be a normal life. And granted, when aforementioned billionaire and a megalomaniacal demi-god with a thing for mischief became closer than friends, they would never have anything remotely close to a normal life. And when said gods brother was also a god, who had a penchant for trying to encourage his brother in carrying another child, well, they may as well have been living in loony land.

But some nights were stranger than others for Tony Stark. To the point where they were bordering on insane. One such night, being the night previous.

Tony had only just finished yet another mundane, hit-your-head-off-the-wall boring but utterly draining mission from S.H.I.E.L.D, and looked forward to nothing more than showering and curling up in bed (which was frequently a code for something else) with his favourite raven-haired God of Mischief. He flung the door open with a weary arm, too stubborn to command JARVIS to open it for him, and stepped forward blindly.

His foot hit something, and he blinked, trying to push his foot forward, until the obstacle began to mewl, a high pitched squeak. Tony jumped, immediately beginning to panic, hand fumbling across the wall to find a light switch he didn't have.

"JARVIS, lights!" Within moments, the room flooded with light, and Tony winced, his eyes squeezed shut. "Are you trying to blind me?" He shouted out, slowly opening his eyes into a squint. Something dug into his leg, sharp, and Tony yelled out in pain, some curses of a rather nasty temperament, shaking his leg about.

"By Odin's beard, do shut up, Stark! Some of us do welcome repose kindly at such ungodly hours!" Tony frowned. Inconsiderate twat. He allowed one eye to open slowly, surveying his living room, out of fear that something dastardly lurked within it.

What the billionaire hadn't expected though, was to find a swarm of black kittens, each one with vibrant green eyes, some of which trotted around in a miniature replica horned helmet and green cape, clawing and biting most everything they could.

"Loki," he called out, in a mockingly endearing tone. The god poked his head around the corner, a rather mischevious grin sat upon his lips, in such a manner that Tony couldn't stay annoyed at.

"Yes dear?" Loki replied, one eyebrow raised into an arch. It was then Tony realised that a certain pale chest was exposed, and he flustered slightly, captivated.

"Um, uh, wh-why are there kittens just trotting about? Very adorable, but why?" Loki quirked his eyebrow slightly higher, and smiled rather seductively at Tony, before winking. The blush was definitely rising now. Damn.

"You like my creations? I call them the miniature Lokis. They shall be my minions for when I next attempt to dominate and subjugate Midgard, for no-one can resist their adorableness." Tony just watched the demi-god, rather astounded by the level of complete crazy in his idea. He noticed, though, that his gaze never lingered at eye level long. Damn that pale, alluring chest.

"You know what? We'll talk about why world domination is wrong tomorrow... Again..." Tony placed extra emphasis on the word, trying to kickstart the cogs in Loki's mind, to remember all the other times they'd had the same discussion. "And what to do with the kittens. But now, bed. And you, mister I'm-going-to-cause-sexual-frustration, you know exactly what I mean..." The mischevious grin gracing Loki's lips grew as Tony marched over to him, grabbing him by the hand, pulling him into the bedroom.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Seriously? What the fuck, Loki! How can I have sex in the bed when it's a bloody cat basket, filled with damn mini-yous?"


End file.
